


right girl

by itsfromjapaAAAAAAAN (Random13245)



Series: there's no you and me, this impossible year [5]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Angst without a happy ending, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I had to like make people up to be Michael's friend and (whispers) fiance, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Sad, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Wedding Planning, holy fuck this part is s a D, i couldn't find a way to mention it but the OFC is trans ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 20:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random13245/pseuds/itsfromjapaAAAAAAAN
Summary: Oh god I did the wrong thing to the right girlMy mind was only in it for a minuteHad a bad fling with a good girlI was stupid and dumb not giving aThe blank stare out the windowIf I could just sober up I could just admitI did the wrong thing to the right girl





	right girl

**Author's Note:**

> I hurt Michael pretty badly in this part
> 
> sorry???? except I'm not
> 
>  ~~there's no cover art for this part yet, there might be later but I'm actually kind of sick rn so whoops~~  
>  there's cover art now here: http://aminoapps.com/p/cs5bh1
> 
> This is based on Right Girl by The Maine

_*Got caught running up a tab,_  
_Couldn't drive home so I had to share a cab._

Jeremy’s drunk. It's been awhile since he last drank, so when Christine invites everyone (everyone being himself, Rich, Brooke, Chloe, and Jake) out for drinks, he jumps on the opportunity.

And that leads him to where he is now, helplessly drunk and lying on the bartop. Christine sees him and laughs. “Hey, I'll call you a cab,” she nudges him and he nods.

“Wait, shit-” he quickly pays for his drinks, realizing he might not have enough money to cover a cab ride. “I dunno if I have the cash on me.”

“So split it with someone,” Christine shrugs.

 _*Introduced herself by her last name,_  
_The kind of girl you steal from the football team._

Jeremy ends up in a cab with someone also drunk. He doesn't get a good look at him, but it doesn't really matter as long as he can cover his share of the cab ride.

The person turns to him, and _holy shit_. Two things suddenly register in Jeremy’s drunken mind: one, the person is really hot, and two, he's pretty sure the person is Michael. Maybe he's just drunk and delirious from missing Michael, imagining him in a stranger who looks similar.

“Mell,” Michael says, holding out a hand. The cab is dark, and they're both pretty drunk, so Jeremy doesn't fault Michael for not recognizing him. It's not been too long since they last talked, but it had been on the phone and not face to face.

 _*Brought up a silver spoon mess,_  
_Always trying to tear off her Catholic dress,_  
_Told me she's over this place,_  
_Needs to feel the Midwest wind in her face._

Instead, Jeremy smirks. “Heere,” he replies in kind.

Michael looks startled for a moment, leaning a bit closer and squinting to get a better look at Jeremy. “Wait, shit, Jeremy?” Jeremy nods. Michael laughs, and the sound is warm. It sends chills through Jeremy’s body.

The close heat of the cab urges him on, and the drunken muddle made of his mind doesn't help. He's impossibly close to Michael now, they're bodies pressed together. He's wanted this for so long, and without a sober thought to tell him what a mistake this would be, a crossing of boundaries he couldn't undo- they weren't totally okay yet as friends, let alone adding this to complicate it all- he surges forward and kisses Michael.

_*But the alcohol made its way down..._

He's a bit surprised that Michael doesn't push him away immediately, instead kissing him back, pulling him closer. It's almost too intimate for the back of a cab. Michael tastes like beer, and Jeremy remembers that he's drunk, too, and a painful thought hits him that the only reason Michael hasn't pushed him away is because he's drunk. He's drunk, and like Jeremy, he lacks inhibition at the moment.

When the cab arrives at Michael’s apartment, they both clamber out- splitting the cost as evenly as they can. Then they're stumbling up the stairs, like they had been so many years ago, kissing and touching- more touching than last time, drunken hands slipping along exposed skin.

_*She was the last thing that I saw last night before I hit the ground_

Jeremy wakes up in what he first thinks is his bed, the hangover just starting to dawn on him as the sun streams through the tiny window. He sighs, sitting up and suddenly realizing there's someone in his bed. And he's naked. And this definitely isn't his room, nor his bed. He rolls his eyes, criticizing his drunken self for being so horny and impulsive he'd go home with some stranger. The stranger is lying on his side, facing away from Jeremy and breathing slowly.

But there's something familiar about the caramel skin and curves of the person’s body. Jeremy stands up, shaking off the feeling and grabbing his clothing to put it back on. He's grabbing his shoes, which landed just below the foot of the bed, when he gets a good look at the person.

 _Oh, fuck, that's Michael._ He'd had sex last night with Michael. _Michael_. The events of the night start to hit him in flashes.

 _*Oh god I did the wrong thing to the right girl,_  
_My mind was only in it for a minute._  
_Had a bad fling with a good girl,_  
_I was stupid and dumb not giving a-_

Michael’s hands on his body. Everything is so _hot_. So overwhelming. But he never wants it to stop.

Michael’s body flush against his. His back hitting the bed. Not a single sane thought is on his mind.

The way Michael moans, and, _oh, god_ , the way Michael says his name, like he's never lived before Jeremy touched him.

The feeling of Michael spreading him open, his instinct to widened his legs more for him. The wanton moans spilling from both of them.

 _*The blank stare out the window,_  
_If I could just sober up I could just admit,_  
_I did the wrong thing to the right girl._

He made a drunken one night stand out of Michael, Jeremy realizes. He fucked whatever they progress they had made right up.

He contemplates before leaving a quick note after he's dressed. One simple line, trying to express what he felt;

_*It was your world, baby, and I just lived in it._

_*I've never been the best with my mouth,_  
_Try to stay smart but the dumb comes out._  
_Maybe I'm shy, I drive an old car,_  
_Maybe I'm amazed that I got this far._  


Michael wakes up, his head already pounding. He groans, rolling over and expecting to see Jeremy there still on the other side of the bed. He could remember what happened, and though he would classify it as a mistake, he definitely doesn't expect to find an empty bed.

He feels some relief to see a note left on the bedside table. Jeremy probably had to leave for work, or something like that, and the note would explain as much.

He gets up, throwing on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt before walking around to the other side of the bed and picking up the note.

Except, the note doesn't explain _anything_. It’s just one line, reading like poetry. Michael never liked poetry. And the line _‘it was your world, baby, and I just lived in it’_ just makes him more confused and almost angry.

 _Whatever,_ he thinks, tossing the note aside, _this is fine, there was never a chance for ‘us’ anyways._

 _*And I got my standbys waiting on the line,_  
_But the hardest part is knowing that it won't be her this time._

Jeremy has never been terribly full of himself, in fact he dealt with a lot of insecurities, but he knows that if he went out to a club, he could leave with his choice of partners.

But none of them will ever be Michael.

 _*Oh god I did the wrong thing to the right girl,_  
_My mind was only in it for a minute._  
_Had a bad fling with a good girl,_  
_I was stupid and dumb not giving a-_

“Jeremy, are you okay?” Christine asks, sitting down next to him. He'd been constantly out at clubs for the last week or so, often inviting Christine along with him for company before he left with a stranger.

But tonight is different. He hadn't planned on t being, but something really hits him and he suddenly doesn't feel like dancing or drinking anymore. Christine is an observant mom-esque friend, so naturally she notices.

Jeremy is tempted to lie, just say he's fine, but he's a bit too tipsy to hold himself back. “Michael and I had sex.” He blurts it out, feeling a bit better at admitting it.

Christine is quiet, though Jeremy can see all the questions running through her head. He hopes that she can surmise by the fact that Jeremy hasn't been in the best place for the last week that that isn't a good thing. He knows she talks to Michael sometimes now too, but he must not have said anything to her. Maybe it isn't affecting Michael the way it has Jeremy.

“Okay, well obviously that didn't go over well, what happened?”

Jeremy sighs. “We were both drunk. Ended up his place.” He shrugs. “In the morning, I woke up before him and it took me a minute to remember what had happened, but once I did I- um- left.”

“You _left_? Did you at least leave a note?”

“Yes.”

“And what did it say? Like ‘hey I'm sorry but I had to go text me’ or something?”

Jeremy looks away in shame. “No. It was- god, it sounds so stupid now- some poetic bullshit. I'm too drunk to quote it right now,” he waved a hand dismissively, “but he hasn't called and I haven't tried to call him. I think it's done.”

 _*The blank stare out the window,_  
_If I could just sober up I could just admit,_  
_I did the wrong thing to the right girl._

Christine sighs. “So this is why you've been such a mess lately?”

Jeremy almost laughs. “To put it bluntly, yeah.” In reality, he almost savors her blunt honesty.

 _*Please, please, baby come back,_  
_Please, please, baby come back._

Michael once upon a time might have hoped Jeremy and him could fix things, but he gives up on that easily. He moves on, dates other guys, enjoys the freedom.

He still talks to Christine, and sometimes Rich too, but any time one of them attempts to bridge the gap between him and them and Jeremy, he shuts down the conversation. He's content with his life as it is, he says. There was never any chance for him and Jeremy to work out, things were just too complicated.

 _*She came back,_  
_Thought she had it all planned out,_  
_Went to marry some guy she had talked about._

Michael’s not sure what leads him here, but he finds himself going on several dates with one particularly charming boy- Noah. Christine is wary of him at first, but Michael reminds her she has to accept that he's moving on from Jeremy.

They date for just under a year before Noah _proposes_ , and Michael is stunned. He never imagined himself getting married, but here he is, with someone who he is sure he’s in love with on his knees proposing to him. Of course, he says yes.

Christine helps a lot with the planning, getting the invites out, helping him find venues to look at, even suggesting color arrangements and flowers.

He reluctantly extends an invite to Jeremy.

_*A tear in her dress and a tear in her eye,_

Jeremy isn't sure why he gets an invite, and he really isn't sure why he accepts.

But he finds himself sitting in the pews with Christine and the rest of the crew. Christine had told him when everything was being planned, but being here now makes everything so much more real.

There really never could be a ‘them.’

But something odd happens, when the music is playing and Noah- Michael’s fiancé, he reminds himself- is supposed to be walking down to the end of the aisle and wait for Michael there, no one comes out of the door. Everyone in the room is standing, facing the door and waiting. The pianist just loops the music, also unsure of what to do.

One of Michael’s new-life friends- a tiny girl named Ava- comes rushing in through a side door, tapping Christine on the shoulder and whispering something to her. Christine’s eyes go wide, taking Ava’s hand as she’s led out the same side door. After another moment, Ava comes back and addresses the crowd.

“Um, this is really difficult to announce, but there's been some complications and- uh, one of the grooms isn't coming. So, um, there's no wedding,” there's gasps from the crowd and Ava tries to calm everyone, “it's fine, if everyone could just sit back down for a few more minutes, please?” In their confusion, the guests obey easily and sit down.

_*And just like that her whole life flashed by._

“Where is he? Why isn't he here yet?” Michael frets, worrying his tie between his fingers.

“I’m sure everything’s fine, Michael, maybe he's stuck in traffic,” Ava says, taking the tie from michael’s hand and placing it back down on his chest before smoothing everything in his outfit out again.

Michael starts to pace around the room that had been made for him to use as a dressing room. He fidgets with the cuffs of his tux jacket, causing Ava to sigh again and grab his hands to still the motion.

“Stop doing that,” she demands, fixing his cuffs. Michael doesn't want to admit that he's intimidated by her, considering how tiny she is in comparison to him, but he knows she can beat him up if she has to, so he tries to stop fidgeting so much.

“Okay, now breathe,” she instructs, and Michael obeys, “good. He's probably just running late, I bet he's freaking out just like you are.” Michael nods, feeling a bit better at Ava’s reassurance.

But when another ten minutes passes and there's no word from Noah, Michael starts to freak out again. This time it's his hair that suffers the most, running his hands through it over and over and totally ruining the careful styling Ava had spent at least an hour on. But this time, Ava doesn't fuss over it because she's starting to worry, too.

“Im going to call him,” she says, picking up her phone and quickly finding Noah’s contact and hitting call. It rings until it goes to voicemail and she starts muttering angrily into the phone, and though Michael can't hear her exact words, it's something along the lines of, “where the fuck are you, I'm going to murder you,” et cetera. She then tries to text him, but judging by her sudden gasp and the way she almost drops her phone, the response isn't good.

“Ava, what's going on?” Michael asks desperately, leaning over to read her phone screen.

_I’m not coming._

Three simple, yet life crushing words.

Michael feels all his breath leave his body. “Can you get Christine?” He says immediately, knowing she helped so much in setting this ordeal up and now it was crashing down. “She's the short Asian girl with the shoulder length hair, probably next to Jeremy, front row.”

Ava nods and rushes out the door.

Michael starts crying once he's alone. Everything is over, Noah isn't coming.

It only takes a minute for Christine to come rushing in. “Michael, holy shit-” she grabs him and pulls him close while he's still sobbing.

“You- You never did l-like him-” Michael says through sobs and hiccups, “-fuck, I s-s-should've listened to you-”

“Shh,” Christine coos, “this isn't about who's right and wrong. You're hurt,” she mumbles.

_*She won't remember what you said last night,_

At the end of the night, Michael is face down on one of the well-decorated tables set up for the reception. He’s ripped apart each flower from the arrangement, the petals settled around him in an almost poetic display. He still hates poetry.

Someone sits down in one of the chairs across the table, he can hear them, though he doesn't lift his head. “Go away, Ava,” he mumbles into the table. He doesn't really want to talk to anyone right now.

“It's not Ava.”

Michael’s head shoots up. “Jeremy,” he glares, “what do you want?” Despite knowing Jeremy isn't the type, his day has been bad enough that a part of him expects Jeremy to start rubbing it into his face.

Jeremy sighs quietly. “Wanna go get a drink?”

_*That if you ever needed someone to pick up the pieces in your life._

Michael is soon _very_ drunk. Jeremy doesn't blame him, he couldn't even begin to imagine what Michael is feeling right now.

“I know we haven't talked since… but, I'm always here for you, okay?” He says, despite knowing Michael is probably too drunk to remember. Michael smiles, but it's so obvious he's bordering on black-out drunk.

 _*Oh god I did the wrong thing to the right girl,_  
_My mind was only in it for a minute._  
_Had a bad fling with a good girl,_  
_I was stupid and dumb not giving a-_

The pain from hangover doesn't overshadow the ache in his chest. Michael spends a week not leaving his bed, having to be coaxed up by Ava.

He doesn't eat much, either, and drops a good few pounds over the course of the next month.

 _*The blank stare out the window,_  
_If I could just sober up I could just admit,_  
_I did the wrong thing to the right girl._

The next time Jeremy sees him is almost two months later, at Christine’s house. He looks gaunt, but maybe not quite as sad anymore. No, sad isn't the right word to describe Michael now. _Resigned_ , maybe, _tired_.

 _*It was your world, baby and I just lived in it,_  
_Oh, it was your world,_  
_All yours._

Jeremy really wishes he could go back and in time and make better decisions, ones that would lead them both on different, better paths. But time moves in one direction.

_*Yeah it was your world baby and I just lived in it._

**Author's Note:**

> responses I've gotten from friends:
> 
> -"I don't have any  
> Words???  
> Like???fuck Noah???  
> There, those are my words"
> 
> -"Alex why"


End file.
